


The Tempest in My Mind / Doth From My Senses Take All Feeling

by angrymiqote



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Day At The Beach, Harvest Festival, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Not Beta Read, Separation Anxiety, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24308656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angrymiqote/pseuds/angrymiqote
Summary: Behold; my unapologetic collection of Askr drabbles and all things FE: Heroes. Yes, this is just an excuse to write about my faves.This started as a generic name Kiran fic but post chapter two or something I just made it into Rin, my darling country nerd who I hope you will grow to love. I'll always update tags with each new chapter.
Relationships: Gimurei | Grima/Summoner | Eclat | Kiran, Summoner | Eclat | Kiran/Zero | Niles
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33





	1. Harvest Festival Blues

Holidays suck.

Okay, well that’s not true. Holidays are a great way to spend time with the people you love. Sometimes, it’s the  _ only  _ chance to spend time with relatives or friends who otherwise are unavailable all year due to life’s many obligations. Also, food? Hello? That alone is worth the stress of preparing all day for a party, and if the food is not, the alcohol usually picks up the slack.

All of this being said, holidays in Askr feel a bit like a double-edged sword. Kiran would’ve hoped with time, holidays away from their real family and friends would get easier, but in all honesty, they’ve slowly gotten worse. That is not to say that Kiran doesn’t consider the heroes as friends, but there is a palpable difference they can’t really explain. 

“My my what do we have  _ here _ ? Our lovely summoner all on their lonesome?” a sultry voice coos right in their ear. 

Kiran shrieks, nearly tumbling off the wall and it earns a pleased grin from the assailant. 

“N-Niles! Don’t do that! Shouldn’t you be at the festival?!” Kiran clutches their chest, a pitiful attempt to calm their rapidly beating heart. 

Niles merely fixes Kiran with a smirk, humming as he slides on the wall next to them, a bit too close as is always his want. “I was there, but shame, the treat I wanted _so_ badly wasn’t there. Now tell ol’ Niles why that might be?”  
  
Kiran feels their face explode red, burying it in their hands. _Why?_ _Why are you like this?_

“Oh Kiran, so mean,” Niles playfully pouts. Oops, did they say that out loud? “Here I was, beside myself with worry for my dear friend’s safety. So worried in fact, that I came running back only for them to be so cruel.” 

Niles can be such a little shit when he wants to be. A gentle bump against Kiran’s shoulder makes them daring enough to pull their hands back to peek at Niles.

“You don’t have to hold back when it’s us. Your secrets are safe with me,” Niles offers, his smile a bit softer now. Damn it. For such a little shit,  _ sometimes _ he can be sweet, and it seems Kiran’s at the point where a little sympathy is enough to get them to open up... 

After a breath, Kiran lets out a despondent sigh. Their hands drop to their lap and idly they twiddle their thumbs as they formulate exactly how to phrase their next words. Niles has thicker skin than a lot of the heroes here, but Kiran doesn’t want him to get the wrong impression. Kiran really  _ does _ love all the friends they’ve made here and the last thing they want to do is to give any contrary idea.

“I just...it’s…I guess I’m homesick.” Kiran feels pathetically small just saying it. “Lotta these festivals remind me of home. It makes me think about my family, my friends, what we used to do together. We called the Harvest Festival ‘Halloween’, different name but the same premise. My friends and I used to carve funny looking pumpkins, eat ourselves sick on peanut butter chocolate cups, stay up and watch scary movies till three in the morning.” Kiran snorts and they wonder if they sound as self-lamenting as they think they do. “I wonder if they’re doing okay. If they’re still looking for me.”

Niles is quiet, which is odd. He always seems to have  _ something  _ to say and it makes the anxiety bubble up in Kiran’s chest. “It’s not that I don’t love all the friends I’ve made here. Sometimes I think y’all are the only thing that keeps me sane, but it’s just...”

Niles's hum sounds mildly entertained. “I’m sure everyone here longs for someone they left behind. Be it emotional or  _ physical."  _ The cheeky emphasis makes Kiran flush. "Pleasure aside, I think it's perfectly natural to miss those that can't be here, and I'm sure they miss you terribly. How could anyone not miss a cute face like this?"

A small thankful smile finds its way onto Kiran's face despite their embarrassment at the compliment. Niles returns it with a mischievous wink and a cheshire grin, sliding off the wall in a fluid motion. He offers Kiran a hand. "If you're not spent for the night, how about you let me give you a Harvest Festival you won't soon forget?"

"You can be the devil, ya know that?" Kiran mumbles, their poor face somehow finding a way to burn brighter. Honestly Kiran did not consider themself a prude, hell, back home they loved making dirty jokes, but after meeting Niles, they feel like a nun. Even so, for some reason they take Niles's offered hand and slide off the wall beside him.

"I'm wearing the outfit so I might as well play the part," Niles smirks, taking the lead. Kiran doesn't notice right away that Niles hasn't let go of their hand, more distracted by the direction he walks in.

"Uh Niles? Why are we going back to the castle? The Harvest Festival is that way."

"A costume, of course. While you're a tempting treat enough on a daily basis, I think it's only right you set aside those robes and indulge in the holiday."

"A-ah I'll be honest, I wasn't planning on it…"

"You're not going to dress up?" Niles pouts and slows his pace. "It's nice for once...becoming someone different."

Kiran closes their mouth, a furrow forming in their brow. Well, Niles did comfort them in his own weird way, and it is a holiday. While Kiran doesn't feel a hundred percent better, maybe actively trying to have a good time would help. Fake it till you make it, right? "Alright," they relent, "but nothing lewd." 

Niles perks up, and, as he doubles their pace towards the castle, Kiran can only pray to whoever is listening for safety.

Twenty minutes later, Kiran's face is beet red as Yarne compliments them on their 'taguel' costume. Niles's roguish laugh in their ear makes the situation more mortifying than it already is. At least they put their foot down to wear shorts and not a skirt. Then again, with a 'taguel' tail pinned to their rear, can they really consider it a victory?


	2. The Beach Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Order of Heroes take their yearly beach visit!

It’s hot. Disgustingly hot. Kiran combs their fingers through their hair, disgusted by the sweat they feel cling to the digits. The yearly beach trip is upon the Order and Kiran can’t say they’re exactly happy about it. The problem is that all the other heroes  _ are  _ extremely happy about it so that alone means it is enough reason for Kiran to bake in ninety-degree heat for a day.

“You have got to be kidding me. You did  _ not  _ bring your work to the  _ beach, _ ”

Kiran pauses in the middle of scratching out a faulty solution and looks up. Sylvain, if they remember correctly, is looking down at them with a wry grin on his face. Kiran still doesn’t know much about the students who have come from Garreg Mach. They all seem like a nice lot, but like every world of heroes, there is usually one whose reputation hits the halls pretty hard. When you flirt with Sharena two seconds after getting summoned, you tend to knock those walls down.

“Sorry, I had some things I wanted to edit before I forgot.,” Kiran smiles, forcing themself to sit up straight. “God is it  _ hot _ . How are you running around in the sun like it’s nothing?” Kiran is really glad they nabbed a spot under an umbrella or is one hundred percent sure they’d be a lobster right now.

Sylvain laughs and offers Kiran a melon ball float. “Easy! A cool drink and jumping in the ocean every now and then. You should give it a try! I don’t think I’ve seen you move from this spot since we got here.”

Kiran takes the sweet drink, sipping and letting the cool liquid give them some reprieve from this accursed heat. “Ah, maybe in a bit. I’m waiting for Sharena and Anna to come to get me to play beach volleyball. Oh, and then I told Ylgr I’d build sandcastles with her and Nino plus I’m in a relay race with Ephraim against Innes and Erika--”

Sylvain barks out a laugh, “Are you...are you  _ scheduling _ your R&R? You can’t be serious?”

Kiran only gives a sheepish smile and a shrug. Guilty as charged.

“Kiran! Come on! We’re gonna start!” Anna calls drawing their attention.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” Kiran echoes, tucking the papers into their backpack out of sight. The last thing they need is for their plans to blow away. “Sorry Sylvain, I gotta go! I’ll see you in a bit.” The Summoner is gone just like that.

Sylvain tips his sunglasses down, watching Kiran hand the leftover half of his melon ball float to Soliel who is fanning herself, no doubt struggling in the heat. She happily polishes off what’s left and sets it down to join in on the volleyball match. Sylvain can’t help but feel a little jealous. How the hell does Kiran get all these beautiful girls to flock around them without even trying and yet he can’t even get the time of day?

Hmm. This calls for some sleuthing.

***

“Hey, Haar. Haaaaar,” Sylvain tries, crouched beside the dozing dracoknight. Sylvain isn’t surprised he’s snuck off to find somewhere to nap. In the short time, Sylvain has been with the order, he’s seen Haar asleep more times than awake. It’s kinda creepy.

“Haar’s asleep,” Haar mutters, pointedly keeping his eye closed.

“Oh good, you’re up. You’ve been with the Order for a bit, yeah?”

“I dunno, I guess?” Haar sighs, cracking open his eye to glare at Sylvain. “Is this going somewhere or…?”

“How do I get as many girls as Kiran does? Is there some type of secret I should know or…?”

Haar fixes him with an absolutely done expression. “Why don’t you bother Kiran and find out?”

“Boo, you’re no fun,” Sylvain pouts, straightening up to his feet. He watches the volleyball game from far away, thinking as hard as he can. There is a common denominator all these girls share with Kiran, now if Sylvain could just see it--”I got it! Haar I figured it out!”

“Good for you,” Haar makes a shooing motion, but Sylvain gives it no heed.

“So Kiran is a good person and all that’s a given. They organize all of their time and stuff just to make sure that everybody is happy, even if they’re a bit self-sacrificing like the Professor. So if I really want a way in, I just gotta get close to Kiran! Now how do I do that...Hmm, if I’m remembering their schedule right, the only thing they haven’t planned to do is go in the water. If I can show that I care about Kiran, which I really do, then maybe I’ll get a chance.”

“Mmm,” Haar nods uncommitted.

So Sylvain tries to coerce Kiran into spending some time in the ocean with him. 

Much easier said than done. 

The second Kiran’s volleyball game finishes, they dodge the invitation by saying they promised Ylgr and Nino they’d make sandcastles. So the four of them have a sandcastle building competition where inevitably Ylgr and Kiran manage to snag the victory. Honestly, for someone who was raised in a land of borderline eternal snow, Ylgr might as well be an artisan at a sandcastle building.

“Whew! It’s scorching, let’s go dunk in the ocean for a bit, whaddaya say?” Sylvain offers.

“Ah man that sounds great and all, but Ephraim is waving me down, sorry!” And just like that Kiran is gone. Well, rats. Sylvain can’t tell if Kiran is avoiding  _ him _ or going in the ocean. Kiran holds no contempt for any hero so it can’t be the first one. Hmm, curious.

Up until noon, the day remains painfully the same save for the heat becoming more intense. It forces Sylvain to even find an umbrella for a moment of respite. Without shame, he spreads out his towel next to Kiran and lies down. With this heat, he doesn’t doubt that it’ll take long for the little summoner to return. It doesn’t even take longer than ten minutes before Kiran plops down next to him sweating buckets and gasping for air.

“Woah there take it easy. You’ll pass out if you’re not careful,” Sylvain pushes back his sunglasses and leans upon his forearms.

“Hah...sorry. It’s just so hot and Innes and Ephraim have a competitive streak a mile wide. It was a lot of fun though and I think they both secretly enjoyed it. You should’ve seen Lyon shout-casting it, I almost fell over laughing halfway through my turn,” Kiran dabs at the sweat with a free towel, but it does little to cool them down.

“Alright, all joking aside. You really need to take a dip. There’s no way you can stay cool on just water alone. As your new, cool friend I am making an executive decision. Let’s go up and attem,” Sylvain gets to his feet and holds out his hand with an expectant look.

“Uh, I’d really like to go in the ocean and all...but my feet are sore from the race and it's just too hot to walk down there,” Kiran struggles, floundering for a way out. Well, that won’t do.

“Oh, well that makes perfect sense,” Sylvain chimes. 

“I’m so glad you understand,” Kiran breathes out a sigh of relief only to yelp when two arms scoop them up against their will. Kiran really needs to stop making friends with people who can pick them up like a ragdoll.

“Yeah, if your feet hurt too much then I’ll just have to carry you down!” Sylvain hums as he leads them both towards the ocean. The sight of the duo draws several curious gazes. All Kiran can think is ‘Oh god not like  _ this _ .’

“Sylvain! Sylvain put me down!  _ Sylvain please _ ,” Kiran whispers frantically as Sylvain’s feet splash into the lapping shoreline.

“My pleasure~” Sylvain pays Kiran no heed and once he’s waist-deep in the ocean, winds up to toss the summoner. “Princess Fjorm! Catch---!!!” He doesn’t get the chance, nearly choking as Kiran wraps their arms so tightly around his neck he is forced to stop.

“I can’t swim!  _ I can’t swim for the love of whatever god you believe in, take me  _ **_back_ ** _ to the shore or you’ll  _ **_drown me_ ** _!”  _

It is at this point Sylvain realizes two things. One, Kiran is trembling like a scared puppy in his arms, fingers all but clawing into his back in a way that’s sure to leave marks or draw blood if they haven’t already. And two, he is a gigantic idiot. 

“W-what do you mean you can’t swim!? How old  _ are  _ you?” Sylvain squawks before he can help himself. 

“Please...just take me back,” Kiran whispers, embarrassed and ashamed. Sylvain’s heart sinks. Uh oh.

From where she floats, Fjorm tilts her head, confused by Sylvain’s declaration and then lack of follow-through. Beside her, Hrid perfectly echoes it and if Sylvain wasn’t in the situation he currently is, he’d bark a laugh at the sight. And then it isn’t so funny anymore, because in tandem, their gazes both narrow as they put two and two together. The Nifl siblings may not understand  _ why _ Kiran is shaking, but the cause of it is standing in front of them and they do not take kindly to people who upset Kiran. 

Look, Sylvain may be a giant idiot, but he’s not a moron. He is well aware of the lengths some heroes will go to protect their beloved summoner. It’s a desire so strong it is not outside the realm of possibility that if Brediblik’s blessing went null and void, they would still put their lives at risk just to keep Kiran from harm. Heroes like Fjorm...and Hrid---oh fuck, _Niles is going_ _to_ ** _kill_** _him_ **.**

“Kiran? Are you okay?” Fjorm tries, her voice a gentle bell, a distinctive counter to her icy glare aimed at Sylvain.

Before Sylvain can start lamenting all the things he didn’t get to do in life, Kiran’s voice speaks out, a lame lie. “Y-yeah just saltwater in my eyes! Ah, it just  _ really  _ stings.” Sylvain doesn’t want either of the Nifl siblings to investigate the validity of that claim(he’s pretty sure they already know that it’s bullshit) so he immediately turns on his heel and starts toward the beach.

“Why didn’t you say so, Kiran!? Let’s go back, I’ll get us some cool drinks and a towel!”

Once they’re back on shore, Sylvain lets down Kiran who immediately rubs at their eyes (probably trying to sell the lie) and stalks off towards the beach towel they’d been so rudely torn from. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t--I had  _ no _ idea you didn’t know how to swim!” Sylvain whispers, jogging just to keep up with Kiran’s brisk pace. Jeez, for someone so small, they really can haul ass.

“I know...I’m sorry,” Kiran adds when they finally sink down onto their beach towel. Sylvain gets to his knees in front of them, offering them Alfonse’s towel to pat some of the water clinging to their legs. Look, it’s Alfonse’s problem, not his.

“Wait, what? Why are you apologizing to me?” Sylvain struggles to understand how the heck they ended up here. Typically when you do the bad thing,  _ you _ apologize. The victim doesn’t. Is he crazy? Is that not how it works?

Kiran pulls the towel around their shoulders, not looking Sylvain in the eye. Whether the flush on Kiran’s cheeks is from embarrassment or the heat, Sylvain couldn’t tell. “I’m well past the age when most people should know how to swim. Where I live, we don’t have a swimming pool and the ocean is a two-hour drive at best so I never needed to know how to swim...so yeah. I’m sorry.”

Sylvain puts a finger over Kiran’s mouth. “Stop! Stop that! Stop it right now. No more apologizing for you. I’m the one who’s supposed to be apologizing. It’s not your fault  _ I  _ didn’t know you couldn’t swim.” A muffled sorry sounds against his finger and Sylvain sighs. “Don’t apologize for apologizing. Alright, look nevermind. What can I do to make it up to you?” ‘ _ So all your super-strong friends don’t murder me.’  _ is left unsaid.

“You don’t need to do anything, it’s alright. It was just a misunderstanding,” Kiran insists.

“How about...I  _ teach  _ you how to swim---”

“No,” Kiran shoots back, “I don’t want them to--”

“Do you honestly think anybody would look down on you because you don’t know how to swim? I have been here for three days Kiran,  _ three days, _ and in those three days I have watched you rush all over that castle, helping anyone and everyone, juggling so many things you give the professor a run for her money. The only thing I haven’t seen you do is sleep. Then again, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the professor sleep either...” 

It earns a huff of a laugh from Kiran which makes Sylvain smile a bit and have the courage to press on, “I bet if you asked anyone here to teach you, they would jump up to do it and if someone was stupid enough to laugh, I’m one hundred percent sure they would have several people at their throats before they finished, hell, myself included---wait why are you crying?”

Kiran chuckles, rubbing at their traitorous eyes. “Sorry Sylvain...that was just so...it was so sweet, I didn’t expect it, I guess.”

“Oh...well, it’s nothin’ anyone else here wouldn’t say,” Sylvain sheepishly rubs the back of his head.

“You’re the one whose been here for three days,” Kiran pipes up, surprising Sylvain with their impish streak. Now it's his turn to blush. The nerve on this person!

“Alright alright quiet you,” Sylvain huffs as he extends a hand to Kiran. “Look, the offer is still on the table if you want to that is.” 

Kiran furrows their brow, expression unsure, but before they can answer, Fjorm’s voice rings out from behind Sylvain, and to this day he will deny the girlish squeak that left his lips. Oh yeah, he forgot about Fjorm and Hrid didn’t he? Well, it was a nice life.

“Perhaps it's something we can help with instead?” Fjorm crosses her arms and looks down at Sylvain with evident ire.  _ What happened? What did he do to you? _

“Ah, it’s alright Fjorm! We worked it all out! It was a big misunderstanding, it’s all good now. I promise!” Kiran puts their hands up in a placating manner. 

“Worked it all out?” Hrid echoes unamused. Bless all the Nifl royalty. Seriously, sometimes Kiran feels like they got four new siblings after everything was resolved with Muspell. Four doting and extremely overprotective siblings. Yes, even Ylgr.

“For sure,” Kiran assures. They’ fall quiet for a brief moment, bringing a finger up to their lips in thought. 

“Hey, whatcha thinkin’ bout?” Sylvain tries. Hopefully, he can clear some of the bad air that’s brewed between Hrid, Fjorm, and himself.

Kiran’s face slowly turns red and they mumble something in reply.

“Huh? What was that?” Sylvain leans in closer. 

Kiran takes a deep breath. “I said...did you see Niles around? I have to ask him something.”

* * *

This was a terrible idea. A no-good, rotten, terrible idea. Once this beach trip is over Kiran fully intends to dig a hole somewhere, crawl into it, and never  **EVER** leave.

“Such a firm, lovely grip. Is this all I had to do to get you to put your hands on me? My, if only I had known earlier I could’ve had you in my arms all day~” Niles grins, enjoying the burning red on Kiran’s face as his summoner’s hands cling to his biceps the deeper into the water he takes them.

“You’re incorrigible,” Kiran mutters, yelping as some cold water splashes them.

“You have to kick your legs like me Kiran! You can do it!” Ylgr cheers animatedly as she swims by with Owain hot on her heels. Ah yes, how could Kiran forget…

“Oh yes, do show us some leg,  _ Kiran _ ,” Niles whispers in their ear. Lord help them, Kiran is going to die from mortification.

“Fear not Hero Champion! I will distract this adorable agent of chaos so my daring companion can teach you the sacred art of treading water!” Owain decrees, earning a shriek of joy from Ylgr. 

“You’ll have to catch me first!” Ylgr dives under the water and splashes her way back towards the beach. Kiran snorts as they hear Odin’s break of a character calling after Ylgr to be careful as he tries to follow her. Well, despite the weird turn today took, Kiran can’t help but be happy that everything worked out in the end. They just hope Sylvain didn’t get chewed out too hard by Hrid and Fjorm...

“Well I think we’re overdue for some alone time anyway,” Niles hums in Kiran’s ear and it earns a fresh blush, “Now let’s make the most of it, shall we?”

“Just don’t let me drown,” Kiran mumbles, resting their forehead on Niles’s shoulder. He’s too embarrassed to even think about catching anyone’s eyes.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Back on shore, Sylvain plops down beside Haar, settling in the shade out of sight and taking a long drink from his melon ball float.

“Well, how’d it go hotshot?” Haar keeps his eyes closed, but Sylvain can hear the cheeky grin in his voice.

“Go back to sleep, nobody asked you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for jeanbean who gave me lovely niles/Kiran. I hope you enjoy it. May your muse stay strong so we can all read your wonderful works o wo


	3. Seeing Double

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grima doesn't know if what he stumbled on in the library is even possible, but here we are.

Grima expects a lot of nonsense when it comes to his ridiculous summoner. Kiran labors day in and day out on pointless drivel-- ’world peace and happiness for all’-- pathetic. She’s the epitome of what humans call ‘selfless’ and such a reputation means she is prone to overworking herself and forgetting to attend to simple mortal functions such as sleep and eating. Obnoxious. The Fell Dragon cannot have his Summoner falling over(again) in the wake of such negligence. It’d be an embarrassment and it would reflect badly on him so it is with only that reason in mind(surely that’s the only reason) he takes it upon himself to accost her within the library.

“Pathetic Summoner--,” Grima starts, tearing the door open with no warning only to find it empty. Curious. He listens carefully and stalks towards the sound of her voice further down into the labyrinth of shelves. 

“Just a little more, Kay! I’m almost there,” a voice trickles into his ear. A deeper voice.  _ A male voice. _ Who dares to defile  **_his_ ** summoner!? Grima sees red. The Fell Dragon runs the rest of his way down the corridor, skidding to a stop just before he hits a table, baring his fangs.

His Kiran is there but not in the way Grima expected to find her. Her hands are interlocked as she supports a short human in summoning robes exactly the same as her own. He seems to be trying to reach a book on a high shelf, eyes screwed shut and his tongue poking out as he exerts his arms to their absolute limit.

“Ha! I got it,” the man cheers, turning to look down at her, but in the motion, he catches sight of a very feral Grima and is rightfully spooked so bad he loses his balance and falls down in a crash.

“Oh my god Rin are you okay--Oh hi, Grima,” his Kiran smiles, giving him that trademark, disgusting, dorky smile. She must promptly remember the stranger she just dropped because panic washes over her face and she immediately pulls him to his feet as if he weighed nothing.

“Who is this lowly worm? A new hero?” Grima fixes this stranger--Rin was it?-- with a glare that has brought many humans to their knees in terror. 

“What, oh no,” Kiran snorts, patting Rin on the back. “This is my friend Kiran but I just call him Rin. He’s visiting from Askr...well his Askr. It’s an alternate me! Isn’t that neat? We met in the Arena a month ago,” she turns her attention to Rin who gives a scared nod. 

Grima finds himself too confused to be angry for a moment so he just parrots, “Kiran?”

“Yes?” They both respond. While his Kiran affirms it happily, this other Kiran--Rin-- answers like he’s afraid he’s about to be gutted--rightfully so! 

Grima can feel a headache coming on. 

* * *

Kiran and ‘Rin’ lead the charge towards the dining hall, chatting about some boring strategy drivel Grima can’t be bothered to entertain with his attention. Regardless, the duo has his attention. While his Kiran is animated, eyes bright in that obnoxious way that betrays her pathetically sweet nature, Rin is almost hunkered down on himself with a subdued smile and warm, honest eyes. Grima wants to vomit. 

They’re nearly there when Rin stops and waves, drawing Grima’s attention from his musings to focus on Haar, one of his Kiran’s elite heroes; a lazy, worthless waste of space.

“Evenin’,” Haar raises his free hand. The other is gripping onto that ridiculous shoreline rake he brandishes as a weapon.

“I was hoping I’d run into you,” Rin splits apart from Kiran, digging into his robe and pulling out a small package to hand to Haar.

“What’s this? Delivery?” Haar turns over the parcel looking for the recipient.

“No, it’s for you! You seemed tired last time you swung by so I bought some coffee at the market. I hope you like a light roast, but if you don’t I can get you something else,” Rin rambles.

“I’ll show him a roast,” Grima mutters, raising his hand only to be stopped by Kiran’s grip on his arm.

“Grima, play nice~,” Kiran admonishes, fixing him with a pout.

“Unhand me,” Grima huffs, pulling his arm from her grasp and crossing them. He ignores the flush on his cheeks. He doesn’t need her attention to feel validated, he is the Fell Dragon, destroyer of man! 

Rin bades Haar goodbye and returns to Kiran’s side and the two of them resume their conversation without missing a beat. Once they reach the dining hall, Grima decides to split off to get a break from their useless prattle. He slips into an empty table away from all the pathetic wretches. It gives him some space and he can still see Kiran and Rin chatting away over whatever book they’d been so adamant on taking out of the library. That is until there is a clatter of a tray at his table.

“Hiya, Grima!” Henry chips, the ground shaking as he sets down the insanely sized coffin that he keeps strapped to his back. 

Grima pinches the bridge of his nose. Countless times has he told his ‘teammates’ to leave him alone, outside of necessity on the battlefield. He’s threatened them with dismemberment, disembowelment, and all extremes of violence, and for Ike and Ilyana it works just fine...but Henry…

“You seem angry! Should it give me caw-se for concern? Nya ha!” Henry chimes, stuffing a forkful of whatever garbage Cormag had churned out in his face.

“I’m beginning to think you have a death wish at this point,” Grima growls. “How many times have I told you to leave me be?”

“Killing is so much more fun when you work together though,” Henry pouts through a mouthful of food.

“Stop talking with your mouth full you revolting creature,” Grima puts his head on his hand, casting his gaze idly around the room.

“Sorry!” Henry swallows and then tries to follow Grima’s gaze. How he manages to do it with his eyes closed all the time is nothing short of a mystery.

“Ah-ha! That’s why you’re so grumpy!” Henry chuckles. “Kiran has a friend visiting! Maybe if I give them a scare I’ll get some candy out of them!”

“Silence impudent mortal! I am not some weak-minded worm like you. I am the Fell Dragon, bringer of ruin and despair,” Grima hisses, before he cuts himself off. A thought enters his head, and his sudden silence earns a curious ‘Grima?’ from Henry.

“Why don’t you? Go give them a scare. I’m sure they have some treats stashed away in that ridiculous robe,” Grima smirks as he can practically see the excited exclamation mark over Henry’s head. So weak-minded.

“Aww, they left” Henry pouts. It draws Grima’s attention back and sure enough, Kiran and Rin are nowhere to be seen. They must’ve scattered off during Grima’s fit of rage. How annoying.

“Tch, nevermind this,” Grima pushes back his chair aggressively and stalks off towards the exit, pointedly ignoring Henry’s farewell. It’s only by luck that he sees Kiran’s robe disappear back into the main castle when he turns the corner. Had he left a moment later he’d be on a wild goose chase.

By the time Grima catches up with them at the castle gates, Kiran and Rin seem to be saying their goodbyes. A taller man rests against a portal that no doubt will take Rin back to his Askr. Rin is bright red, smacking the white-haired bowmen against the chest as he covers his face. Kiran doubles over wheezing, and an ugly coil of jealousy winds in Grima’s gut. That is his Kiran! Pathetic worms should know better than to trifle with the Fell Dragon’s property. He’s at Kiran’s side before he even realizes he moved.

“Ah, sorry we didn’t get to talk much, Grima, but I gotta head back. It’s nearly three am in my Askr. I must’ve lost track of time,” Rin rubs the back of his head. 

“It was great having you come by,” Kiran gives an enthusiastic thumbs-up, “Maybe next time I can come over to yours and we can see if there are any differences between our Askr’s libraries!”

“Mm, two Kirans in one place? Pinch me, I must be dreaming,” the white-haired man purrs.

“Shut up, Niles,” Rin covers Niles’s mouth and it earns another laugh out of Kiran. “But yeah, if you wanna swing by sometime, Kay, I’m totally down. We can send some letters through Haar and work it all out!--agh gross don’t lick my hand, Niles!”

“For sure! Safe travels,” Kiran waves, and the duo disappears into the portal.

“Tch, the nerve of that archer. I should’ve ripped his head off for ignoring me so blatantly,” Grima huffs.

“Ooh someone’s jealous!” Kiran teases, reaching out a hand to pinch at his cheeks. The nerve of this woman! Pinching the fell dragon’s cheeks!

“Jealousy? Ha!. I am above your kind’s weaknesses. If I use my powers, I can take anything I damn well please.”

“Yeah yeah, well don’t worry. Tomorrow I’m going to do some Aether Raids! Our castle could breach tier twenty-seven if we do it perfectly. What do you say? Will you come?”

“I suppose I have nothing better to do and showing mortals just how pathetic they are compared to me might be entertaining enough.” Grima crosses his arms and walks back towards the inside of the castle. He enjoys Kiran’s indignant cry of ‘wait up.’ He decidedly does not wait just to spite her.

“Thanks! I really appreciate you, you know that?” Kiran smiles, that gross, earnest sweetness saturating her voice.

“I am a god. Your reverence is a cry among thousands.”

They continue their easy bantering throughout the castle, parting at the library with Grima’s declaration that he’s ‘entertained her nonsense enough’ for one day. Kiran merely laughs like she only does and extends him the invitation to join her in her studying session. 

Well, if Grima does decide to accompany her it’s nobody’s business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u wu for jeanbean, or 'Kay/Kiran'. I hope I did your feral dragon boy justice!!
> 
> I shorted my Kiran's name to 'Rin' to keep things less confusing but also cause its a cute name. Once again my shameless Niles bias is showing > _ >'' IS you really shafted me with no summer!Niles this year. We have summer Leo for gods sake >:(


	4. On The Nose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiran does something stupid. Something incredibly badass, but stupid.

It was an unsuspected and difficult assault. Nobody really has the gall to take the fight to the Order’s doorstep, unless you’re Veronica, who apparently gets sick of playing nice after the war-- that  _ literally  _ ended two days ago --against Hel. I guess a temporary truce was too reasonable for her to consider. There were casualties on both sides, the bulk of them slanting towards Embla and forcing the Princess to cut a hasty retreat. Regardless it’s not like the Order would be unable to recover who they lost, and yet, it’s the first time in a long time, Askr had so many casualties. Maybe it was complacency, some idealistic dream that Veronica wouldn’t turn on them the second the gun is pulled away from both of their heads. An idealistic dream Kiran believed in that got people he loves killed.

“Kiran,” Alfonse tries, unsure if he should reach out and put a hand on their shoulder.

Kiran’s expression is unreadable, green eyes vacant as they stare out at the remnants of the battlefield. They do this sometimes, they just go quiet and to be honest, it is downright scary. Kiran is always happy, always warm and kind to anyone who meets them. They’ll drop everything they’re doing to help someone, to make someone smile who they think really needs it. They’ll cry if they’re sad, even if they try to hold it back so nobody else will see. Kiran’s very existence is  _ expression.  _ So when Kiran just stands there, nothing on their face, nothing in their eyes, Alfonse finds it nothing short of terrifying.

“Alfonse,” Kiran parrots after a brief delay, turning to face the prince.

That unnerving expression is focused on Alfonse and it sends a jolt of unease through his gut.

“She’ll be back. We’ll need a plan,” Kiran mumbles, eyes falling downcast. They stuff their hands in their summoning robes and begin walking back towards the castle without another word.

Alfonse doesn’t chase after them, but he catches Sharena’s gaze across the battlefield where she’s helping Soliel to her feet. They don’t need words, Sharena immediately looks at Kiran’s retreating form. Alfonse can’t tell what she says to Soliel, but she hands the younger girl off to a very distraught Laslow and chases after the Summoner. 

The next few days pass in relative unease. Kiran spends them in the infirmary, helping Elise and Forrest tend to those who were wounded or...worse. While they don’t have a lick of magic in their body, Kiran does their best to raise their spirits and bring anything that they may need. And yet, Kiran isn’t right. Alfonse can see their smile doesn’t quite reach their eyes, the laugh they give is just a shy hollow, and dark circles are forming. Alfonse desperately wants to reach out, but he also doesn’t want to overreach. The last thing he wants is for Kiran to retreat, push it off like they’re fine, and somehow he ends up making it worse. So Alfonse will wait until Kiran reaches for him.

Alfonse shouldn’t have waited.

___

With winter approaching, the air is brisk and a chill settles into Eliwood’s bones. He probably shouldn’t be pushing himself like this, but he wants to come back stronger to Pherae whenever his work with the Order is done. He needs to be able to weather any battle and be able to battle in any weather. Sunlight is just peeking over the horizon as Eliwood reaches the training field, surprised to see a familiar robed figure already there.

“Kiran? Forgive me, but I don’t normally see you up this early,” Eliwood stops at a friendly distance.

“Oh hey,” Kiran gives a smile, there's something off about it, but Eliwood doesn’t press. Kiran knows well enough that if they need an ear to bend, he is always available. “I was hoping you’d show up actually. You said a while ago you’d started training early in the morning and...well I was hoping I could join in,” the summoner sheepishly admits.

“You want to join me for some training?” Eliwood parrots back, not in a mean way, more curious.

“If it’s not too much trouble. I, uh, I want to know how to hold my own,” Kiran looks down at the training sword in their hand. “In case something happens, you know? Even if it's just blocking, it would mean a lot to me.”

“...All right,” Eliwood relents with a smile. They’re right, there is no harm in teaching them the basics and maybe in a pinch, it could save their life. He steps forward and begins adjusting Kiran’s stance. “Hold the sword like that... And set your feet like this...Perfect.” Eliwood parts for a moment to grab a free training sword from the nearby rack and sets Durandal safely aside. “I’m going to do some basic swings, do your best to block them, alright?”

Kiran nods, gaze full of steely determination. Eliwood can’t help the small smile. He sees a part of him looking back, a part of Roy too. “Alright, brace yourself.”

This continues for the next few days. Kiran doesn’t have the strongest start, but then again, if Eliwood recalls correctly, Kiran never saw battle in their world. With that in mind, Eliwood relents that the progress is pretty good. Blocking, parrying, and dodging; Eliwood does his best to teach Kiran a little of everything and Kiran is more than determined to soak up whatever knowledge they’re given. Still, eventually, Eliwood’s curiosity wins over.

“Kiran, may I ask you a question?” Eliwood ventures, muttering a ‘good’ as Kiran blocks his next swing.

“Hmm?” Kiran lowers their sword to give Eliwood their full attention.

“Why the sudden interest in swordplay?”  _ What is the real reason you want me to teach you this? _

Kiran’s gaze drifts off and they shrug their shoulders. “It’s like I said. I thought it would be good to know how to hold my own, in case of an emergency or somethin’.”

Eliwood knows that isn’t the entire truth, but he doesn’t feel it’s his place to press. There is no way to force Kiran’s hand if they don’t want to tell him everything, so the most Eliwood can do is nod and say, “I’ll do everything in my power to see that not be the case.”

Kiran smiles, but it doesn't reach their eyes.

***

Veronica returns the next day, but thankfully, Askr is well prepared. Thanks to scout reports, they had two hours to prepare, setting up four main encampments which made curbing the assault that much easier. So far there hasn’t been a single loss on Askr’s side. Kiran’s hand drifts against their summoning robes, the sheath of a hidden sword poking out against the fabric. If it is in their power, that number will be zero by the time this ends.

“Let’s have a looksie, shall we?,” Morgan pulls out a spyglass from his coat, mindful to lay as low as possible as he peeks around the rock they’re hiding behind. The last thing either of them needs is to attract the attention of an archer. “Hmm, knock on wood, but I think Veronica’s going to be forced to call a retreat soon. Things are noooot lookin’ good out there for team Embla--oh hey my pitfall trap worked out,” Morgan gives a silent fist pump for himself.

Kiran breathes out a laugh, switches places, and receives the offered spyglass. It takes them a moment to focus the view, but sure enough, they spot Veronica at the very rear of the field. “Well she doesn’t seem happy, I’ll give you that.” 

“You’ve seen her happy?” Morgan cocks his head, an impish smile on his face.

“I mean about a week ago we all tolerated being on the same battlefield together and she wasn’t angry at  _ me _ per say? Does that count?” Veronica makes an aggressive motion to an axe cavalier, turning on her heel and walking off the field. “Speaking of angry, I think I just saw the call to retreat,” Kiran smiles, handing Morgan back his spyglass. 

“We should join up with the others. There are probably still enemy soldiers by the northern encampment so let’s join up with the southern encampment and we can all head back to the castle together. As long as we’re careful on the way there we’ll be fine.”

“Right!” Morgan nods, descending the hill alongside Kiran.

“This should be the last of her nonsense for a while,” Kiran offers as they go

“Really? What makes you say that?” Morgan fixes them with a curious gaze.

“Saias brought it up at our tactical pow-wow meeting thingy. He said there is no way Embla has the resources for a sustained assault on us after the war with Hel, and he’s right. This would’ve been her best shot at knocking the Order down. We’re both weak from war, trying to get ourselves straightened outright? So while she continued to push for this random assault,  _ pushing  _ her resources ‘out’ in a sense, we were putting our resources into Askr. She’s shooting herself in the foot, and thank god, ‘cause I’m getting tired of her hot-cold bullshi--”

“Duck,” Morgan cuts them off, voice panicked.

There is one thing that Kiran has learned since they’ve been in Zenith that has saved their life a disturbing amount of times. If somebody tells you to duck, you duck. Don’t ask questions, just duck. If you don’t, the best thing that happens is you get a faceful of cake and the worst thing that happens is that you get your head chopped off. So yeah, when Morgan says duck, Kiran drops down into the mud so a dagger soars mere inches over their head instead of through their throat. 

“Amateur,” Morgan answers with powerful bolts of fire magic, destroying the thief in ablaze. Kiran breathes a sigh of relief, getting back to their feet and Morgan turns back to look at them, proud of himself. Rapid footsteps are the only warning they both get before a swordsman dashes through the smoke. One swing has Morgan on his knees. “Ha...bad move.”

“Morgan!” Kiran shouts before they can help it.

The swordsman rears back to give the finishing blow.

_ No. No.  _ **_NO!_ **

Kiran doesn’t hesitate. They rip the sword from its sheath and dash in between Morgan and his would be killer. The contact clang is  _ loud _ . Kiran’s always heard it from a distance, but up close and personal it is deafening, especially when the wielder is actually intending to kill them. Kiran grits their teeth, summoning every bit of strength they have in their arms. Somehow they manage to push enough to get the swordsman off balance and he’s forced to backstep.

_ Feet apart. Firm grip. Open stance. Watch for tells. Don’t screw this up. _

There’s a split second, a thousand-year long pause in a span of half a breath and then the swordsman rushes forward, bending low and slashing his sword in an arc. Kiran jerks their head back to avoid getting their face slashed in half, nearly tripping over Morgan’s prone body in the effort. They bring up their sword to block a flurry of consecutive swings, their grip shaking from the force, ears ringing at the clamor. Desperate, Kiran pushes back again, and this time side steps to lead their attacker away from Morgan. They can’t dodge freely while trying not to stumble over him. In their diligence, Kiran ends up backstepping on a rock which causes them to lose their balance and fall onto their back. When their head thunks off the ground they see stars.

Before the panic can set in, two arrows sing through the air and straight through the swordsman in a gruesome display, the man falling over dead. Kiran stares in shock, heaving for air as if they hadn’t breathed since they charged Morgan’s would be killer. Shit, they forgot about--

“Morgan!” Kiran yells when they find the air, eyes locking on Morgan still on the ground. Their own voice is almost unrecognizable, desperate, and wrought.

“What the  _ hell _ is wrong with you?!” There are hands on Kiran’s face, forcing their attention at a very distressed archer. “What possessed you into picking up a damn sword? Have you gone mad?”

“Niles,” Kiran breathes, brain coming up empty for ideas on how to answer that question. Well, Kiran knew the answer, it's just like their brain couldn’t connect the information to their mouth so all they could do was gasp out Niles’ name again.

“Yeah, that’s me, sweetheart. How many fingers?” Niles mutters, raising his hand.

“Uh...two?” Adrenaline slowly seeps out of Kiran’s system and exhaustion hits them  _ hard _ . There is a sudden itching sensation across the bridge of Kiran’s nose that grows more apparent with each passing second. The itching turns to tingling which turns to stinging and then all at once it's burning like liquid fire. “A-Agh, my nose,” Kiran feels tears involuntarily well up. It  _ hurts.  _ They instinctively raise a hand to touch it, but Niles grabs it before they can even get past their chin.

“Ah ah, hands off that pretty face. Let’s get you to Forrest first,” Niles chides, pushing Kiran’s hand back down. 

“Divine Dragon...Kiran what happened to your  _ face _ !” a new, and extremely familiar voice gasps. When did Odin get here? Oh yeah, him and Niles were assigned to the southern encampment.

“Really helpful, Odin,” Niles glares at the mage as he lifts Kiran to their feet. He guides them to drape their arm over his shoulder so he can support them with an arm around their waist. “Go grab the kid, let’s move.”

“Morgan? Is he alright?” Kiran turns to stare at Odin as he kneels down over the prone lad. He presses two fingers to Morgan’s neck, pauses and then gives a thumbs up. A wave of relief washes over Kiran in tandem with a fresh wave of raw ache from their face. 

Kiran can’t say why (maybe it was instinct), but they reach their free hand to touch their nose and hiss, eyes watering at the slightest of contact and spots dotting their vision. Their fingers come away covered in deep red. That is...a considerable amount of blood. When did that happen? Their brain starts racing, trying to pinpoint the moment---that first swing. Kiran thought they had jerked their head back far enough, but they must’ve been shy by just an inch. Suddenly, Kiran’s vision blurs and they feel like they’re about to pass out.

“Hey.  _ Hey,  _ focus on me,” Niles snaps Kiran out of it with a strong shake. Niles looks nervous for a split second. Kiran has never seen Niles nervous as long as they’ve known him. 

“This way, friends!” Odin has Morgan draped over his back, the kid's head leaning on his shoulder. He looks so small, much too young to be throwing himself in front of Kiran. 

__

Kiran doesn’t remember the trip to the infirmary. One second Odin’s leading them into the forest and the next Kiran is sitting on an examination table, catching a glimpse of the damage that sword wielder inflicted on them in the mirror behind Forrest. It's a long gash that bisects the bridge of their nose, grizzly and raw. Kiran closes their eyes, and leans their head against Niles’s shoulder--that’s right, Niles is next to them. There is a hand on the small of their back. It's warm and an anchor to consciousness. 

“Kiran, look at me please?” Forrest’s gentle voice coaxes them to open their eyes and sit up straight. Forrest gives a small smile, dabbing away as much blood as he can, his touch is merciful when the disinfectant isn’t. Any spark of discomfort Forrest even thinks Kiran feels, he mutters a quiet “Sorry.” Kiran likes Forrest. He’s polite, sympathetic to those around him, and just has an overall calming aura. When Forrest seems satisfied that he’s cleaned up Kiran’s face enough, he brings up his staff and warm energy flows out.

“Try your best to relax,” Forrest instructs, and Kiran does their damn best, wincing every now and then as their skin stitches itself back together. They are not a fan of the feeling. The warmth fades, and Forrest pulls the staff away, a small grimace on his face. He steps aside so Kiran can see their reflection. The gash has completely closed, but there is a distinctive scar. 

“Thanks for your help, Forrest. I don’t know where we’d be without you,” Kiran gives him a smile, because what can they do at this point? A scar is a scar. It’s not the first scar Kiran’s ever had. They were always clumsy as a child. Still, it is definitely the most interesting scar they have now.

“I need to go help, Auntie Elise. I’ll come to check in and drop off some pain salves later tonight at your room,” and with that Forrest is gone. Niles slips off the examination table. Kiran is hopeful that Niles will drop this whole thing, but mentally frowns when he steps into the space between Kiran’s legs and lays a hand on each of their thighs. There's a storm in that blue eye staring at them, charging the air with electricity.

Niles opens up his mouth to say something, but it's cut short by Alfonse charging in with all the grace of a baby giraffe on roller skates, nearly slipping on the floor as he tries to skid to a stop. 

“What happened? I was on the other side of the field when the news got to me,” Alfonse struggles to catch his breath. He must’ve really run all the way here.

“Someone decided they wanted to be a sword fighter instead of a tactician today,” Niles summarizes. His tone isn’t teasing or warm. Kiran internally flinches. Yep, definitely not dropping it.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” is the only thing Alfonse can think to ask.

“Yeah, that was my plan Alfonse, you caught me,” Kiran snaps their head up, a scowl on their face. “What kind of question is that? Of course, I wasn’t!”

“So then, what were you trying to do?” Niles interjects, voice clipped, He raises up a hand to stop Alfonse before he can make a bigger ass out of himself. “Really do tell, I’m aching to know.”

Kiran falls quiet, clenching their fists. How do you explain this sort of thing to people who couldn’t possibly understand? “You all just...all this time. I…,” Kiran starts. They know they’re not making much sense right now. They take a deep breath. 

“I give commands that can quite literally kill people. Commands that  _ have  _ killed people. And _every time_ they come back, they just...they listen to me again. Do you not see how screwed up that is? Someone leads you to your death and you just get back up and follow them?” Kiran’s shaking, they know they are, but they can’t stop. 

“It’s not fair that you all are risking your lives, people that I care about deeply are risking their  _ lives _ and I just sit there and watch the consequences of my own mistakes, my own negligence. I'm sick of watching it happen over and  _ over.  _ You'd think after three years of this I'd be a better tactician, but look what happened last week. I got Lucina killed because she followed my orders to cross the bridge. I have to look her in the eye, I have to look  **Chrom** in the eye _. Every time _ I have to look people in the eye...If I could spare one life if I--.”

“Kiran, the reason you ‘sit there’ is because you  _ are _ the reason we can come back,” Alfonse steps forward, pushing Niles’s hand down. 

“If something were to happen to you, all of our lives would be forfeit. You're lamenting your mistakes while ignoring all your victories, all the miracles we've pulled off because you were there to lead us. Not to mention the miracles off the field. You reunited parents with children, lovers, made friends out of enemies. Don't you understand? There is nobody in the universe who could do the incredible things that you have. That is why we get up and follow you again and again because anyone here can see that you will take us to a better tomorrow. The Order will only ever want you as our tactician and our friend. So please, don't put yourself in danger like that ever again. Putting yourself in danger won’t save anyone, and we may lose the person we all care about the most."

"I'm...I'm sorry," Kiran leans their head forward, resting it against Niles chest as they try to reign back the tears. Alfonse is right. It's stupid how right Alfonse is, and it's stupid how blind Kiran was to let this all bubble over, stupid to hold this in for  _ three _ years. Ironically it proves their point; they’re still a terrible tactician. They can’t even see the answer when it's right in front of their face. They need outside help. “Forgive me for being a dumbass.”

"I can't say this is how I imagined you begging me for mercy, but it's alright." Niles hums, trying to lighten up the mood. It earns a weak laugh out of Kiran. "Really, giving poor ol' Niles a scare like that...and people say  _ I'm  _ the cruel one."

Alfonse sighs, shaking his head. These two sometimes he swears."I'm glad you're alright, Kiran. Really, you're an invaluable friend. I wouldn't know what I'd do without you."

Kiran lifts their head up and gives Alfonse a watery smile. "I'm sorry, Al," they whisper and hold their arms out. Niles obligingly steps back so Alfonse can come in and give Kiran a bone-breaking hug. "I won't do it again, I promise. I'll be a better tactician, one that deserves all your praise. One that won't make mistakes."

"You deserve the praise and more. I'll always be by your side, through victory and loss. You're my dearest friend, Kiran. Never forget that. We can do anything so long as we're together," Alfonse whispers back, rubbing Kiran's back when he hears a held back sob.

Alfonse pulls away a moment later and Kiran gingerly wipes away tears from their eyes, wincing when their hand brushes over tender skin.

"I need to go fill in Sharena on what happened. I kinda just...left her on the field to clean up with Commander Anna when I heard the news," Alfonse rubs the back of his head sheepishly.

"Al," Kiran smiles with fondness. "Alright, go on, go. I'll see you at dinner?"

"I wouldn't be anywhere else," Alfonse nods, clapping Kiran on the shoulder with a smile. He's gone a moment later.

"Well I'll give his highness one thing, he has a way with pretty words," Niles sighs, reaching out a hand to help Kiran down off the table. Kiran's quiet, and after a brief pause, they entwine their fingers with Niles’.

"Thank you...for saving me. And I'm sorry I scared you," Kiran mumbles, unable to look Niles in the eyes.

Niles clicks his tongue, reaching a finger under Kiran's chin and forcing eye contact. "None of that now. I'll always be there to protect what's mine," he purrs, delighting in the soft blush his words bring. “You’ve already been forgiven, but if you want to beg some more~”

"You--I'm trying to be serious!" Kiran shakes their head, a fond smile on their lips.

"Who said I wasn't?" Niles's grin falls into something a little softer. "I won't let anyone else touch a hair on that pretty head. I don't share well," he cheekily pokes Kiran's forehead.

Kiran breathes out a laugh, face red and chest flooded with a warmth they can't quite describe. "Come with me? I want to check in on, Morgan. Make sure he's alright."

"Selfless as ever," Niles mock sighs. Kiran squeezes their entwined fingers and Niles squeezes back. It’s funny. Kiran can’t help but feel rather selfish in this unspoken moment between them.   
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> with every chapter, I'm becoming a more unapologetic Niles fucker. too tired to check for errors hmu if there is anything blaring. Also taking suggestions for future chapters so yeah leave ideas!


	5. Nostalgia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was it a vision, or a waking dream?  
> Fled is that music:—Do I wake or sleep?
> 
> \- John Keats 'Ode to a Nightingale - lines 79-80'

The morning sun is a cruel mistress. Despite being millions of miles away, she still manages to travel that distance, burn through the one broken blind on Kiran’s window, and nail them directly in the eyes. It’s too early to be up. Kiran’s not sure what time it is, but it’s too early. Sadly, once Kiran is up it’s impossible to fall back asleep. With a frustrated sigh, they sit up, wiping the sleep from their eyes.

Clumsy as ever, Kiran nearly trips when climbing out of bed. It seems even their sheets are trying to get them back to sleep. Somehow they make it to the kitchen, digging around until they find the coffee grounds. God, why does their head feel so foggy? 

“Good morning, Kiran.”

They whip their head up in surprise. Has mom really been there this whole time? How did they miss her? Maybe they haven’t been getting enough sleep. It wouldn’t be the first time with college and all that.

“Mornin,” Kiran smiles, sets the grounds down and slides onto a barstool at the counter. Something tugs at the back of their mind. They can’t say why, but they feel very anxious sitting here. This isn’t right. Something just feels so  _ wrong  _ about this situation. Is Kiran forgetting something? Hmm, that feels right. They must be forgetting something, but what?

“It’s a good morning to take the dogs out if you’re feeling up to it. There won’t be rain until the afternoon,” their mom offers, handing over a couple of leashes.

Again, that wave of anxiety ebbs forward. What the hell are they forgetting? Someone or something? Despite this, Kiran feels themself getting up from the table. Maybe they really do need some air. Dogs. They need to find the dogs. What are their dogs' names again?

"Hey mom?--" Kiran turns to look back at her, but she's gone. 

"M-Mom!?" Kiran tries, waiting to see if she'd pop back out. Nothing. They clutch the dog leashes, turning to head out, but bump right into their Mom's chest. "Ah I’m sorry--"

"Don't forget your coat and come back before it starts raining," she smiles, guiding Kiran into their raincoat, but before they protest that they’re still in their pajamas, they get distracted by pressure against their leg. Two beagles are looking up at them, happy and panting, no doubt excited for their morning out. The smaller one whines, impatient and bats at his their shin again. A dull ache throbs behind their eye.

_ Copper and Casey.  _

Kiran isn't sure why they suddenly remember. It only leads to their unease. They look up to say goodbye to their mother, but she's no longer there...and they're no longer in the house. They're standing in the middle of nowhere, all alone-- the dogs are gone-- on a dirt road between unending farmland. It feels familiar. They've been here. When? Why? Kiran bites their lip, looking up and down the path. This doesn't make any sense. When did they get dressed? How did they...get out here? How do they get back home? 

Against their better judgment, Kiran starts walking and curiously takes in their surroundings. The smell of the air is comforting; clean, cool, and fresh. It must've rained last night. The sunshine is warm, perfect for a long walk. Birds chirp overhead and nearby there is the bubbling of a creek with frogs ribbiting. Kiran  _ knows _ this place, they've been here countless times, but where are they? Perhaps if they just keep walking…

The splitting headache stabs again with no pretense.

**_It will rain soon_ ** **.** **_Go home._ **

Why is this information blindsiding them in bursts?

**_The road will flood._ **

That’s right, it always floods in the wet season.

**_You have to hurry, Kiran. Run._ **

So Kiran runs. They run for what feels like forever, pushing to go even faster as dark clouds loom, till their lungs are raw with overuse, and then longer still. Where is their house? Is this the right way? 

God their head is killing them.

Kiran crashes into their front door, tripping over the threshold and landing face-first on the hardwood. With a groan, they push themselves onto their elbows and look around. The hallway is pitch black. Where did mom go? Where are the dogs? Shit, what were their names again? Why can't they remember anything?

Their pocket vibrates. No, wait, it's their cell phone. Reaching back, Kiran's hand closes around it. The buzzing becomes more and more aggressive. They pull it free and look at the screen; no caller ID.

Kiran swipes a finger across 'accept'.

"Hello?"

Static. Painful static. Like a cicada screaming right in their skull. In shock, Kiran tosses the phone aside and covers their ears. It's pointless. The sound gets louder and louder and  _ louder  _ until---

Kiran shoots up in bed, gasping and shaking. Holy shit.  _ Holy shit.  _ With near frantic urgency, they tear themselves from the sheets and run to the window, ripping open the blinds. They sigh in relief. It's the courtyard bathed in moonlight. It's Askr. They're in Askr. Their legs give out, and so they sit and prop themselves up against the wall, knees hugged to their chest.

Nobody knows this, but Kiran doesn't remember the day they disappeared. Anytime they try to remember, their brain just comes up blank. These nightmarish fever dreams are the only reliable source of what happened, and saying they’re reliable is a stretch. Sometimes it'll be their Aunt Leah in the kitchen. Sometimes it'll be winter, not spring. Sometimes they get the call on the road.

Kiran could tell you anything and everything about life back home, where they lived, what they majored in, childhood memories, but not even a word comes to mind when they think about the day they disappeared. It’s all blank. Painfully blank.

Kiran takes a moment, simply breathing until their heart rate goes back to normal. They hate that dream, but they can't go back to sleep. If they do, they'll wake up in that reality over and over again. These are the nights that eat away at them in a unique way. When they can finally think straight they get to their feet, trading out their pajamas for their old hoodie, sweatpants, and converse. They're not going to play the part of the Summoner tonight, no, tonight they just want to be Kiran. Regular, country kid Kiran.

So Kiran leaves their room, quietly toeing their bedroom door shut behind them. They're not sure where they're going to go, but it sure as hell won't be back to bed. So they wander, hands in their pockets as they let their feet decide where to go. The royal wing, the west wing, the garden, the east wing, the library; they wander all over and still feel restless, anxiety eating at them like a parasite. It's scary to completely forget a part of yourself. What if they never remember? Was it something traumatic? Was it just the by-product of the transition between worlds? They left so much behind they just want that damn closure...

It's Kiran's near encounter with an open door that serves to break up their negative thoughts. Odd, castle servants aren't known to leave doors open. Curiosity leads Kiran to peek in and they can't say it's not a unique surprise. Kiran’s never seen Askr’s ballroom. In the three years they've been in Askr, they somehow managed not to come here. It’s not to say they didn’t know it existed or where it was, they just never had the chance. A shame, it's magnificent. Beautiful floor to ceiling windows and shimmering glass chandeliers. There are sheet covered tables and chairs tucked in the corners, no doubt to ward off dust while in disuse. 

Kiran's more distracted by the sole occupant. The dance is a sight; fabric flowing like water as it twirls, limbs bending with flawless grace. If Kiran didn't know better they'd say they were watching a gymnast at the Olympics. When the dance does come to a close, Kiran can't help but clap.

Inigo yelps, dropping his dancer rings and nearly stumbling over the connecting ribbon. “Oh my--Kiran! I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I just saw the door open and curiosity got the better of me. I had no idea you danced. You’re so graceful,” Kiran rubs the back of their head, sheepish now. “Still, it was wrong of me to...watch you without you knowing. I’m really sorry, Laslow.”

“Ah well, apology accepted, and we’re alone so you can call me by my real name,” Inigo smiles, scooping up his dancer rings. He motions for Kiran to come in. “It’s rather late isn’t it? Something on the brain?”

“Eh, just couldn’t sleep,” Kiran noncommitedly shrugs as they take the moment to look up at the ballroom’s windows. With the titanic glass, the view is phenomenal; a cloudless night sky with millions of twinkling stars. A wave of nostalgia rushes over. Warm, summer nights out in their backyard, gazing through their aunt’s old telescope, fascinated by the constellations. They’d stay out there for hours, comparing charts they checked out from the city’s library to the breathtaking canvas above them.

“Kiran?” Inigo’s gentle voice snaps them out of their reverie.

“Ah sorry, got lost in my thoughts for a moment there,” Kiran breathes a laugh. “Did you say something?”

Something flickers in Inigo’s expression. Sympathy? “Let’s dance.”

Kiran snorts, “Yeah right.” Except, Inigo sets aside his dancer rings and holds out his hand. “Oh...you’re serious.”

“Of course I am. Besides, nobody said you had to be a good dancer to dance,” Inigo keeps his hand outstretched. “It’s about bringing a smile to people’s faces, and you, my friend, are in desperate need of a reason to smile. So what say you? How about a dance between friends?” 

“I’m...I’m going to step all over your feet,” Kiran eventually relents, taking Inigo's hand, their grip hesitant.

Inigo tuts, entwining Kiran's fingers with his properly. After adjusting Kiran's free hand to rest on his shoulder, Inigo sets his own featherlight on their waist. "Relax, this is for fun," he smiles. "Now, move with me. One two…"

The first few steps are far from fantastic. Kiran steps on his feet a lot.  _ A lot. _ Inigo smiles through all of it, and once Kiran finally learns how to pace their footing, the mood lightens considerably. 

"How did you learn to dance like this?" Kiran pipes up, cut off in a laugh as Inigo coaxes them into an impromptu spin. 

"My mother taught me. She'd spend all day teaching me steps to dances she'd learned when she was traveling. After I...left home, I went to Nohr and Hoshido. Nohr's dances, for lack of a better term, are very aggressive. Most center around a lot of hard stepping and sharp movements. Hoshido's dances lay into distinct movements and the ability to guide the eye. They can hypnotize a person to ignore what's right in front of them. Got out of a rather tricky situation with it, haha!" Inigo blushes at the memory.

"Oh come on you can't leave me hanging on that! Tell me!" Kiran grins, easily falling back into step in the gentle ballroom waltz Inigo sets.

"Perhaps another night," Inigo winks and Kiran pouts.

Inigo begins to hum, moving Kiran to the beat. Kiran closes their eyes and appreciates the moment. Gentle creaks on the wooden floor, the tiniest jingles from Inigo's earing, and of course, Inigo's song fills their head. Odd, didn't Kiran hear Shigure sing something like this? Maybe Inigo learned it in Hoshido when he was visiting.

Kiran's not sure how long they dance, but eventually, Inigo brings the movement to a close. When Kiran opens their eyes, there's a sweet smile on the dancer's face.

"See, now that is a smile that I like to see," Inigo hums, stepping away and bowing dramatically. "The pleasure of this dance was all mine."

Huh, Kiran hadn't realized they started smiling.

"No my good sir, I assure you, it was mine," Kiran laughs, imitating Inigo's bow. They both straighten up, and Kiran takes one more look up at the star filled sky, thoughts of their bad dream gone and only fondness brimming in their heart. Perhaps like Inigo does his dances, Kiran could always take distant stars with them wherever they go. "Really, Inigo. Thanks for tonight. I'll let you get back to your practice."

"My pleasure. I think I am all done practicing for tonight though. It's close to three am now," Inigo stretches until he feels some satisfying pops. He bends down to collect his dancer rings, walking alongside Kiran towards the exit. "Would you like me to walk you back to your room?"

"No, I'm alright, thank you," Kiran smiles. There is no way they'd let Inigo walk them to their room when they know damn well Inigo would have to walk to the complete other side of the castle just to get back to his own quarters.

"Alright," Inigo smiles, "Till next time my friend."

"Till then," Kiran nods, shuffling back in the direction they came. The walk back is peaceful, Kiran mindlessly humming the tune Inigo did earlier. It fills them with a sense of ease. They make a mental note to ask Inigo what song it is next time they see him. 

When Kiran ends up back at their room, they still can’t bring themselves to go back to sleep. Only a few more hours till sunrise. Better make the most of it. Yanking open their desk drawer, they pull out a match and light the overly abused candlesticks. A random book is snatched from the self-proclaimed 'plan to read' pile, a mix of things tacticians have recommended or things they simply found interesting from the library. With a gentle sigh they fall into their desk chair, and open to the first page.

  
  


  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> love Inigo with me


	6. Saccharine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rin cherishes his friends and Lysithea is a cutie
> 
> honestly just written for jeanbean for always indulging in my nonsense and helping me break out of my writing slump. hope you all enjoy!

Lysithea has a love-hate relationship with sweets. She  _ adores _ sweets. They’re fantastic; cakes, pastries, candies she could never get enough. She hates that for some reason people see it as carte blanche to try and treat her like a child and undermine her achievements to being a ‘prodigy’. She is  _ not  _ a prodigy. She’s worked so hard to hone her skills, she refuses to let it be undermined to ‘natural talent’. So, how does one ward off these misconceptions and have as many sweets as they want? The answer is simple; late-night kitchen raids.

After much investigation, Lysithea has found that one in the morning is the golden time to sneak into the kitchens. They’re empty, quiet, and most importantly, the fridges are well stocked with tomorrow’s desserts for dinner service and left perfectly unattended. Needless to say, she nearly loses precious years off of her life when she waltzes into what she assumed was an empty kitchen and instead sees Rin pulling fried pastries from hot oil.

“R-Rin!” Lysithea gasps. Her sudden presence startles him into nearly dropping his tongs into the oil. 

“God Lysithea don’t  _ do _ that to me! Ya damn well gave me a heart attack.” Rin finally composes himself, one hand resting over his heart as the other begins to meticulously drop what appears to be raw dough wrapped around white tubes into the oil. “If you’re here for tomorrow’s dessert it’s in the leftmost fridge. Think it’s vanilla cake or somethin’ like that,” he offers distractedly, hyperfocused on his task.

Lysithea crosses her arms, trying to look uninterested as she inconspicuously makes her way over to the fridge. Cake retrieved, she digs a fork into it in what she hopes is a reserved manner and peers over Rin’s handiwork. At least thirty rounded shells are laid out on paper towels, oil draining away and leaving behind crispy, delicious-looking pastry. 

“What are you doing?” she ventures when her curiosity becomes too much.

“Making cannoli shells,” Rin mumbles, not tearing his gaze away for a second. It’s kinda creepy.

“What’s a cannoli?” Lysithea picks up one of the dried shells, turning it over curiously in her hand. It seems like it would crush if she gripped it too hard.

“An Italian pastry,” Rin pulls another shell out and places it gently into a free spot of paper towels. It’s the sudden sound of crunching that distracts him for a split second. “H-hey don’t eat the--”

“I can’t believe it. Jakob said you were just as bad as Felicia at cooking, but this is fantastic,” Lysithea marvels. 

“Did he now?” Rin feels his eye twitch but decides to let it go. In this department, Jakob’s biting remarks are warranted. ”I mean I guess, yeah, if you gave me most recipes, I’d screw up big time, but _ , _ ” Rin emphasizes, “ _ this _ is one of the recipes that’s been handed down through my family for generations.” Another perfect cannoli shell is pulled from the hot oil and set aside. “My mom had me fry hundreds of these shells and mix thousands of fillings till I could make this recipe with my eyes closed. I actually hate the taste of these things now because of it.”

"So then why are you making them for Kay?" Lysithea pouts when Rin pushes her hand away to keep it from a second taste test. Hmph, not fair.

"Well just because I hate them doesn’t mean that she will," Rin surmises as he pulls the last few shells out, finally giving her his complete attention. " If you want, I can fill and coat a couple for you? I just want to make sure there's enough for Kay."

"Fill and coat them?" Of course, that's where Lysithea gets hung up.

"Yeah, I fill them with sweetened ricotta, sprinkle the ends with chocolate chips, and then dust it with powdered sugar. I can leave them both off if that’s too much--"

Rin swears that Lysithea's eyes sparkle. "No no no! I wouldn't want an inauthentic version! That would be insensitive to something your family has worked very hard to perfect and preserve. Coat to your heart's desire."

From the fridge, Rin grabs a bowl full of white cream scoops some inside a piping bag. He only fills a small amount and lays the cream into a single shell. With a sprinkle of chocolate chips and a dust of powdered sugar, he motions for Lysithea to have at it. "Try this and let me know whatcha think.”

Lysithea doesn't hesitate to oblige. There is a minor puff of powdered sugar when she crunches that makes Rin snort. A pang of nostalgia strikes him.

_ "Ah, that's a good sign! The cannoli kissed you for your hard work!" _

_ Rin laughs and nearly chokes on the treat. Of all the ridiculous things for his mother to say. When he manages to swallow without dying, he looks back to his mother who has a puff of powdered sugar dusting her nose.  _

_ "Well the shell is a smidge overcooked, but the filling tastes perfect! Let's give it one more try." Her smile is warm, eyes kind as she ruffles his unkempt hair. _

Rin snaps out of the memory and watches Lysithea's face for any sign of impending critique. She chews thoughtfully, eyes focused down on the treat as she no doubt is thinking up a storm.

"...Can I have another?" Lysithea breathes after she polishes off the rest of the cannoli in one, mildly horrifying to watch, bite.

"Sure," Rin breathes out a laugh as he fills another, "but this is the last one. I need to have something to give to Kay."

Lysithea pouts, but relents and watches him make another treat for her. As Rin pushes forward the finished product, Lysithea pipes up, "So why are you making these for Kay?"

Rin sets the piping bag back in the fridge. He closes the door and leans against it, happily watching Lysithea dig in. "Well she's had a rough go at it lately. Homesickness and all, ya know? It got her real good at a meeting last week, but she brought up a good point. We have to build a home in Askr. I figure, for the meantime, she can lean on me like a brother. I ain't that good at sayin' sappy stuff outright so I figured food is the best way to do it. Back home, it's a pretty big part of our cultures. Figure an ol’ italian dessert would be a nice first step to welcoming her into the family.”

"That's really nice," Lysithea settles with an honest smile on her face. "I'm sure she'll appreciate it." It's kind of funny. Offhand, Lysithea thinks that Rin and Claude would get along well. Claude has a similar mindset about food bringing people together in ways words can't. 

A yawn breaks up her train of thought, Rin rubbing his eyes. With a glance at the clock, Lysithea notes the time."I think I'm going to call it a night here. It's getting late and I want to deliver these first thing in the morning." 

"Aren't you going to fill the rest of your shells?" Lysithea watches as Rin sets them on a tray to slide into the fridge.

"Oh no, you can't fill them unless you're about to eat them or else they'll get soggy," Rin smiles.

"Oooh." Lysithea slides off the chair and sets to work helping Rin clean up the kitchen. It’s only fair since he did give her some delicious treats. When they're finally walking back towards her room, does Lysithea dare to break the companionable silence. "Do you miss home, Rin?"

"Sure do," Rin answers after a beat, turning his attention on her as they go. "I'll be straight with you, I think about it every day in some way and sometimes it keeps me up late just tossin' round all the what-ifs. Is my mom searching for me? Are my dogs okay? Does time move differently here than it does back home? Will anything be changed if I ever make it back?" Rin gives a small, weak smile, "But I know I ain't the only one...and sometimes that's enough…sometimes."

Lysithea frowns, a bloom of determination suddenly swelling in her gut. Maybe if she and Annie put their heads together...they could find a way right? They were two of the most determined women at Garegg Mach, and with the knowledge of the heroes from other worlds, they could--

"Hey now, no need to look so tense," Rin makes a placating motion. "Even if I want to, I can't go home just yet. Y'all still need me and mom would chew my ear off if I ever abandoned my family, whether it's by blood or found." A sheepish expression takes over as Rin rubs the back of his head. "Ah look here I am, talkin' yer ear off and keeping you up. I'll let you get to sleep."

Oh. They made it to her room. How did they get here so quickly? Lysithea turns as his footsteps retreat behind her, calling out, "Rin wait!"

To his credit, Rin stops and tilts his head at her. Lysithea's hands ball into fists as she racks her brain for something to say. Anything, to let him know how he’s become like family to her, how much she appreciates his hard working attitude, how she only wishes to give some of her time if only to help…No, no, that'd never sit right with Rin. He never lets anyone put him first. If she is going to help him, she'll have to do it behind his back.

In the end, she settles for, "Maybe sometime you can teach me how to make that dessert?"

Rin mouth makes an 'o' briefly before a soft smile slips onto his features. "Definitely. Just let me know and I'll make time. Promise." With that, he offers one last kind goodnight and disappears down the hallway. Lysithea watches him go, a bloom of determination swelling in her gut. She silently promises herself to seek out Annette first thing in the morning. They have work to do.   
  



End file.
